Playing the Game
by harlequin90
Summary: Harvey Dent wants to catch the Joker once and for all. Rachel Dawes, secretly obsessed with him, offers herself as bait for the plan. But things go awry... Joker/Rachel Rated MA Disclaimer: I don't own, and I don't earn.
1. Turmoil

Chapter 1 - Turmoil

Rachel sighed and rubbed a hand wearily across her forehead. It had been a long day at her office and she just wanted to get home, slip into a hot bath and watch TV. But Harvey was striding up and down in front of her desk, demanding her attention while he rambled on and on about plans to capture Gotham's most evil adversary.

"There's got to be a way to catch him, Rachel, the man's not invincible. He's mortal, just like the rest of us."

"Sometimes I'm not so sure," Rachel muttered, resting her chin on her hands and propping her elbows on the desk. She thought of all the times that Bruce had tried to outwit him, to defeat him. The Joker had survived every time, and what's more, he'd usually escaped leaving only a grim cackle behind to torment the ears of his would-be captors. She couldn't deny it. The Joker was – a genius. A shrewd, psychotic mass murderer, yes, but a genius. She didn't know how Gotham would ever rid itself of him.

"Rachel, are you listening to me?"

She jerked herself out of her reverie and back to Harvey, who was stood in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Harvey... It's just been a long day, and I'd like to go home. Can we deal with this tomorrow, please?"

His stern face instantly creased with concern and he moved around to Rachel's side of the desk, put his hands on her shoulders, and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Honey, I'm sorry. You do look shattered; I should've noticed before. It's not been easy for you recently, huh?"

Rachel knew Harvey was alluding to her last encounter with the Joker, when he had held her at knife point in the middle of a roomful of distinguished people. She had been terrified, yes, but there was something undeniably compelling about his behaviour, something alluring about the way his mind worked. When he had held her face in his gloved hand and looked deep into her eyes she had seen far more than a madman reflected within his own black depths. His soul – if indeed he had one – was far more complex than anyone could have ever imagined. Something inside Rachel was nagging at her to discover more, to find out what made this man tick. It couldn't be merely violence and death, could it?

She looked down as she felt a blush spread over her cheeks. She knew she shouldn't be this interested in a man that had thrown her off a building, and it embarrassed her. She made a show of wiping a hand across her brow and blowing into her fringe.

"It's hot in here, don't you think?" she asked Harvey, standing up and moving away from the desk. He looked at her in bemusement.

"Rachel, are you – "

"I'm fine. I just – I don't want to discuss the Joker anymore, okay? This man has been on everyone's mind over the past few days and I'm – I'm fed up with it, to be honest, Harvey."

He still looked confused, but said, "Okay, sweetheart. You're right. All this talk of him can't be doing you any good. Listen, why don't you forget about the whole thing, concentrate on your clients, and let Bruce, Gordon and I deal with the Joker. I won't bother you with him anymore, alright?"

Disappointment washed over Rachel. In her quest to feign indifference towards the Joker she had now created the appearance of having a phobia of him. This was ridiculous. What was he doing to her mind?

"I want to be of use, Harvey. That psycho nearly killed me, and he's out to get many more. How long will it be before he announces that he's going to blow up a government building, or one of Bruce's skyscrapers? We need to corner him, I agree with you on that. Hell, we need to lock him up and throw away the key." She paused and smiled at her boyfriend to break the tension. "I'm not saying I don't want to help. Believe me I do. It's just – I – he frightens me, Harvey."

This, at least, was the truth.

He smiled softly at her in return, moved over to her, and put his arms comfortingly around her. She hugged him back, closed her eyes, and nuzzled her face into his neck, feeling safe and secure within his warm embrace.

"I know he does, honey. But once we have him, Gotham can rest easy. Bruce can rest easy. And so can we. Then we can think about our future, yeah?"

She nodded, trying to ignore the Joker's laughing face, which loomed up before her closed eyes, deranged, messy, and to be honest, just a little bit arousing.


	2. Plans

Chapter 2 - Plans

The next morning Rachel was sat in a meeting with Harvey, Commissioner Gordon, and several police chiefs, all discussing various ways to corner the Joker once and for all.

"We have to think of something the Joker really wants," Gordon said, leaning over the table with his hands clasped together. "Something he'll come for."

"What shall we give him?" one of the chiefs asked. "Money? How much?"

"No," Rachel said, so emphatically that all the men turned to look at her. "No. He's not interested in money, don't you guys know that by now? It's not surprising we haven't caught him if you think _money _makes him tick."

"Well what do you suggest, little missy?" the chief said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, looking inquisitively at her.

"Well, I – I'm not sure," she faltered, blushing. "But you have to offer something that he's intrigued in, that makes him curious."

"He likes blowing things up," another chief said. "What do you want us to do? Invite him to a large fireworks display?"

"Guys, can you leave the sarcasm out, please?" Harvey said, rubbing the corners of his eyes tiredly as the men around him sniggered. "She's trying to help. And she knows more about the Joker than all of us put together, so I suggest you listen."

Rachel sat thinking for a while. "Well, I guess – the last thing the Joker seemed to be really interested in was – me."

They all stared at her for a while.

"Oh come on, sweetheart," one of the chiefs scoffed, "you really believe the Joker will step out of his lair for _you_?"

His voice tailed off as Harvey gave him a furious glare from across the table. He then looked at Rachel, concerned.

"Rachel, I – I didn't think you wanted to be a part of this."

"I'll do whatever it takes to bring this man to justice," she said bravely, a small smile forcing itself onto her face. Her heart began to pound as Harvey looked to Gordon and started discussing arrangements with him. Her own resolve frightened her. She wanted to see the Joker again, she _had _to meet him, but at what cost? What had she just agreed to? Surely this was suicide. Her fascination with this man was twisting her mind.

"Okay, Rachel," Gordon's voice brought her back to her senses, "here's what we propose to do. We're going to arrange teams of armed cops to surround the place you'll meet the Joker. It'll look deserted when he gets there, but we'll be waiting nearby. We'll give you a few minutes to keep him talking, and then we'll move in."

"You make it all sound so easy," Rachel said dryly, rolling her eyes.

"But how do we entice the Joker in the first place?" Harvey asked no one in particular. "Just slipping him a note that says, 'Rachel Dawes wants to see you' isn't going to work."

Rachel thought for a while. "He's totally unpredictable, Harvey. There's no way of manipulating him or being certain of what will tempt him. It's just..." She paused. "When he looked into my eyes that night, I – it wasn't just a madman I saw. He's got more layers than an onion. He's clever."

"We all know that," Gordon said. "But how do we outwit him? That's the question."

"We need to confuse him by playing right into his hands. Make it look like we're coming to him, not the other way around. We'll write him a note offering a compromise."

One of the chiefs scoffed. "The Joker doesn't do compromise. It's all or nothing for him."

But Gordon rubbed his chin thoughtfully and Harvey nodded slowly. "I think that might just make him curious, especially with using Rachel as a go-between. It's the only thing we've got to go on, anyway. We'll give it a shot."

"Right," Gordon said decisively, standing up. "There's no use sitting around discussing it; I'm going to start arranging things for tonight."

"Tonight?" Rachel said, heart leaping into her throat.

"Yes." Harvey grimaced at her. "You said yourself, Rachel. Who knows when he might strike again? It's got to be done now."

"O-okay," she stammered, suddenly very unsure.

Gordon and the policemen left the room. Harvey went over to her and crouched down beside her.

"Are you okay, honey? Are you sure about this? Because we can change things – "

"No Harvey," she said sternly. "We have to go ahead with this."

"It's going to be dangerous. I hardly think I need to remind you of that, but – it could all go wrong. Really wrong. And I'd hate it if – if I – if you were hurt because of me. Do you believe it's going to be as simple as Gordon says? The Joker will have weapons, he'll use them. And he'll try and barter with me. I've got a bad feeling – "

But Rachel put up a hand to stop him going any further. "I've decided, Harvey. I'm not scared of him. He pushed me off a building, right? I hardly think it could get any worse. Just make sure he meets me somewhere on the ground."

She gave a confident smile and left her seat, then strode out of the room, wishing that she felt as convinced as her words made her out to be.


	3. Confrontation

Chapter 3 – Confrontation

Rachel waited in the darkness impatiently, tapping her foot against the ground and looking occasionally at her watch, which glinted in the light of the distant streetlamp. Half past nine. Where was he? In the note – which Rachel had handwritten herself, careful not to arouse any suspicion – she had requested to meet him at quarter past nine. Perhaps he wasn't going to show up; maybe he'd figured out the trap. He wasn't stupid, after all. Rachel sighed, partly in relief, partly in disappointment. Usually she was a pretty decisive woman but when it came to the Joker, nothing was certain. She was a bundle of nerves; shaking with adrenaline, hope, curiosity and fear.

"Well, hel-_lo_, beautiful," came a voice right beside her ear, breath hot on her neck. She whipped around and leapt backwards, her heart flying into her throat as she stared into the black eyes of the Joker. He smiled, one side of his mouth pulling upwards as his shrewd gaze swiftly calculated her expression. Rachel could do nothing but stare at him.

"So... I got your note," the Joker said, holding the piece of paper up between two gloved fingers, "summoning me here to your presence like a naughty schoolboy. Are you going to punish me? Is that what I'm here for?"

His eyes glittered mischievously.

"Well, Miss Dawes," he continued, licking his lips, "you know how I'd like that."

Rachel fought the urge to hit him while he threw back his head and cackled with glee. She folded her arms and waited for him to finish; he seemed to go into hysterics and she shuddered, questioning the sanity of both of them. He eventually quietened down and wiped his eyes, still chuckling, and looked at her.

"Come on, Miss Dawes," he growled, taunting her, "you should learn to laugh once in a while. That pretty face of yours would look even prettier with a _smile._"

"Let's get down to business," Rachel said, willing her voice not to shake. His words, his insane cackle, his actions... everything he did sent quivers from the base of her spine right up to her neck.

"Business! Hahhahaha. You wanna get down to _business. _Well of course, whatever you say. Although I would've thought a woman like you would like to go somewhere more comfortable and private. But if you insist, I've got no qualms with fucking outdoors."

He threw her a look so dirty that Rachel felt a twinge in her loins, and she blinked in surprise and disgust. Then he burst out laughing again and her longing was instantly replaced by anger.

"Don't mess around with me, asshole," she snarled. "I'm not standing out here for the benefit of my health. I have a job to do."

"So do I," he chuckled. "Places to blow up, people to kill... Oh I must congratulate on your choice of meeting place, by the way." He looked around at the darkened, silent fairground, giggling as he spotted a ride with clown's faces painted down the side. "I like your sense of humour. Perhaps we will get on after all." His expression was perfectly pleasant as he turned back to her, his hands clasped in front of him, and said inquisitively, "Now, what can I help you with, Miss Dawes?"

Baffled and curious at his rapid change of mood, Rachel said uncertainly, "I'm here to offer you a compromise."

"Oh really?" the Joker rumbled, his tongue darting between his lips as he stepped closer to her. "Well, sweetcheeks, I think you may have _forgotten _that I'm not a big fan of compromise. See, I 

like to have everything my own way. Life's no fun if you're placed under restrictionsss. That's exactly why I broke out of Arkham!"

His laughter shrieked into the darkness.

"If you're not interested, I can just walk away now," Rachel said impatiently.

"Hold on one moment, little missy. Of course I'm in-ter-es-ted. I'm interested as to why you felt the _need _to see me tonight. Your little _com_-promise was just to cover your fascination with me. I may look like a clown, Miss Dawes, but I sure as hell don't act like one."

She wished he wasn't so close. She wished she could shut her eyes and block him out, but he was everywhere, invading her ears, her eyes, her nose. He smelt of burning ruins and violence and stage makeup, and gave off energy powerful enough for her to almost smell that, too. His eyes glinted hungrily and he flexed his gloved fingers as though he was itching to place them around someone's throat.

"I simply thought that you – that you could – answer a few questions I have," Rachel stammered, forcing her body not to flinch as he gripped her waist hard with one hand and pulled her towards him. "You're – you know – Gotham's most wanted criminal, so obviously I had to know more about you..."

"Now. Really. Miss Dawes," the Joker sighed, rolling his eyes as if in irritation, "Do I _look _like the kind of man who would give interviews?"

His other hand swiftly pulled his knife from his inside jacket pocket. It glinted in the streetlight as he held it up and surveyed it with pleasure. He then slowly, carefully, drew the flat of the blade along Rachel's graceful jaw line and gave a soft, shuddering sigh when he saw the fear written on her face. She clamped her eyelids shut, but this only made her more aware of the closeness of his body to hers, and the sensation of the cold blade sliding lovingly across her skin. She suddenly 

wanted him to press the whole length of his body against hers, longed to feel the heat of his flesh, and unwittingly uttered a gentle moan of desire. The knife cut shallowly into her cheek. She opened her eyes as she felt the sharp sting, and looked straight into the infinite black pupils of the Joker.

"You haven't come for interviews, Miss Dawes," he whispered. Her skin prickled with anticipation at the sound of his voice.

Suddenly shots were fired into the air and distant screams sounded in her ears. The Joker pushed her away from him, giggling, and slipped the knife back into his pocket. He clapped his hands together in glee, finally calming down enough to say –

"And here. We. Go."

More gunfire rattled into the night air. Rachel didn't need a degree from Harvard to figure out what was happening. The Joker had led her and Harvey into a trap of his own, and now the armed cops were battling it out with the Joker's own henchmen.

"Time we were off, I think," the clown said after listening to the conflict for a while, grabbing Rachel's arm and tugging her along as he began to head for a nearby side street. He was surprisingly fast and she had difficulty keeping up with his long, ambling strides. She was led further and further away from the noise of the shootout and closer towards a big black car. Two masked henchmen were sat in the driver's and passenger's seats. The Joker wrenched open the back door and growled, "Get in."

"I'm not taking orders from you," she said, struggling against his tight grip.

He took no notice of her, but merely pursed his scarred red lips together and rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed her by the waist, shoved her into the car, climbed in after her, and slammed the door.

"Right boys, let's go."

As they sped off into the night, Rachel looked around, desperately trying to work out where they were going so that when she somehow found a way to contact Bruce or Harvey they would know where to look for her. But the windows were blacked out, and there was a screen between the front and back seats, so she had no clue as to where she was being taken. Her heart rate increased and her palms began to get sweaty as she realised just how much danger she was in. She cursed herself for being so stupid.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the Joker watching her with lurid fascination. She flushed with shame as she realised just how much she enjoyed his attention, the feeling of his black eyes upon her, the slow smile tugging at his lips. She looked elsewhere and tried to ignore him, but he slid over to her, took her chin in his fingers, and yanked her head towards him, forcing her to look at him. Rachel could hardly breathe as he slowly traced a gloved hand along her jaw line, down her neck, over her breasts and stomach. His lips crashed violently against hers as his hand continued to travel the whole length of her body. Rachel was too intoxicated, too stunned, to stop him. His touch made her body shiver with expectation and desire; she moaned softly into his kiss and gripped his shoulders, which were surprisingly firm under the baggy purple suit. Suddenly he pulled away from her and smirked, noting her disappointment. Continuing to gaze into her eyes, he took one glove off and slowly slid his hand up the inside of her thigh. Rachel opened her legs wider to allow him better access, giving a low moan as she closed her eyes and threw her head back. For some reason, however, the Joker stopped when he reached her underwear, put his head to one side enquiringly, and narrowed his eyes at Rachel.

"Well, well," he muttered. "What have we got here?"

Her eyes flew open and she cursed under her breath. She'd forgotten the tracking device. Harvey had insisted she wore one for just such an occasion as this, and she'd put it in a place that she thought would be discreet.

The Joker's eyes widened in realisation and he giggled as he fingered the small electrical appliance. "A tracking device! My, you sure are smart, Miss Dawes. But not as smart as me."

He whipped his knife out of his pocket, reached down, and sliced up the seam of Rachel's knickers.

"First you see them," he grunted as he ripped them away from her hips, opened the window, and threw them out, "now you don't!"

Rachel brought her hand back furiously to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist painfully and dragged her face towards his.

"Just imagine Harvey's confusion when he finds your knickers and the tracking device, alllll allooooone without his squeeze."

The Joker roared with animalistic laughter as he twirled his knife between his fingers.

"Now. Where were we? Oh yeah ..."

He bent his head to kiss her and began to slide his fingers up her thigh towards her entrance once more, but Rachel, becoming aware of just how disgusting her cravings were, struggled against his grip and tried to push him away. "Get _off _me, you animal!"

"Oh, come now, Miss Dawes," the Joker whispered gruffly beside her ear, licking his lips. He kissed the side of her throat, inhaling her sweet perfume and pressing his body against hers. "Don't mess around. I _know_ you _want _me..."

Her spine tingled at the sound of his voice, so close to her ear, and her body relaxed as it finally gave in to the lust throbbing between her legs and pulsing through her veins. The Joker sighed with pleasure as he felt her go limp, and he grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her mouth onto his. She seized the lapels of his jacket desperately and dragged him on top of her, pulled him further into the kiss so that his tongue scorched hers, ground her hips against his instinctively, wanting him, _needing _him.

Suddenly the Joker broke away from her and sat back, smirking down at her as he smoothed his hair back from his face. "Not yet, doll-face. You're going to have to wait, I'm afraid."

Rachel bit her lip to stop her cry of frustration. He was toying with her. Well, she could play that game too, and she resolved to teach him a lesson once they'd arrived at – wherever they were supposed to be going.


	4. Submission

Chapter 4 - Submission

The car jolted to a halt and she heard the two clowns in the front get out.

"I'm gonna have to blindfold you, Miss Dawes," the Joker said, his eyes glinting. "Can't have you knowing the location of my whereabouts. Either that, or I knock you out."

"I'll go for the first option," Rachel said dryly.

"I thought you would. Where did I put that blindfold? Ahh, you know, I wish I hadn't thrown your panties out the window now."

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. You're sick, she thought. Sick. So why did she desire him so strongly?

"Oh well, the Joker's famous for improvisation!" her captor quipped, once more taking up his knife and slicing a strip off Rachel's dress.

"Hey, you moron!" she yelled, but before she had time to do anything else the Joker had grabbed her shoulders and twisted her painfully around so that her back faced him. He roughly tied the makeshift blindfold across her eyes, then put his unexpectedly strong arms around her waist and pulled her against him, digging his fingers into her hips.

"Mmm," he said into the crook of her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. "I like this position. I'll have to keep it in mind for later."

He cackled in Rachel's ear, and then she felt him grip her arm and haul her out of the car. He made her walk along side him for a while, then she was taken up a flight of steps and through a couple of doors. She had absolutely no inkling of whereabouts in Gotham she was, if indeed she was still in Gotham. It was a few minutes before she heard a door close behind her and the Joker say, "Welcome home, honey!"

He ripped the blindfold off her and Rachel looked around, completely disorientated. She found herself in the middle of a large white room, which was lined with stainless steel cabinets. There was nothing on the walls and no windows. Close by her was a metal bench. The Joker leant on one of the cabinets opposite and watched her as she gazed around.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"It's just a little somewhere a few of my colleagues carry out, uh, experiments."

Rachel frowned at him. "You mean they torture people here."

He shrugged. "It's all in the name of science. I'm afraid I can't tell you too much, Miss Dawes, otherwise it might spoil my next great venture!" He grinned and rubbed his hands together. "Oh, how I _do _look forward to that. But for now, I'm gonna concentrate on _this _venture."

He shrugged out of his purple jacket and threw it aside, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Rachel's face as he walked slowly towards her. She stepped backwards, away from him, until she felt her back collide with a steel cabinet in a corner of the room and knew she was trapped. It was the hostage-party scenario all over again. The thought made her mouth dry and her heart pound with fear. But this time it was fear mixed with a grave animal desire for him to finish what he began on the journey here, and she unconsciously parted her knees, willing his body to fill the space between them.

The Joker stopped just a few inches away from her, smiling knowingly as his midnight stare took in her body language and the lust in her blue eyes.

"Just why did you want to meet me tonight, Miss Dawes?"

She just watched him, not trusting herself to speak.

"I push you off a building, and you come back for _more. _Now why _is_ that?" he asked, folding his arms and staring at her intently.

"I suppose I just have a morbid curiosity," Rachel replied dryly.

The Joker let out a whoop of laughter. "Ya know, curiosity can get you in a lot of trouble, sweetheart. You oughta be careful there."

He smiled slowly at her, his eyes wandering leisurely over her face and the curves of her body. Rachel wanted to pull him closer but she resisted, knowing that he wanted to continue the game. She didn't want to be the first to give in. An acute ache was now throbbing in her loins, but she could wait. So they both stood there, unmoving, trying to stare each other out, waiting for the other to make the first move. After a while the Joker's smile cracked into a grin, and he turned from her and began to walk away. Desperately Rachel grabbed his arm and pulled him into a blistering kiss, their tongues burning as they wrestled passionately. The Joker pushed her backwards and her back collided painfully with the steel cabinet, but this only made her more eager for his touch. As if he could read Rachel's thoughts, he gripped her waist and dug his fingers into her flesh, making her squirm with a strange mixture of discomfort and pleasure.

Suddenly she realised that she'd let the Joker take control again and felt angry with herself. She couldn't let him win. His body had begun to relax and melt into hers; he was intoxicated, lost in their kiss; she decided to take the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Seizing the front of his shirt, Rachel dragged him around so that he was in her place and she in his, and then slammed him against the steel cabinet, as he had done to her. The Joker's body tensed in surprise at her sudden strength, but then he relaxed and moaned into Rachel's kiss as the pain from the impact spread pleasurably up his spine.

She worked to loosen and remove his tie as her lips broke away from his and travelled down his scarred cheek towards the vulnerable flesh of his throat, which was devoid from stage paint. Rachel bit him in her eagerness and she felt him shudder with satisfaction as she lapped his shallow wounds with her tongue. The metallic taste of his blood rushed to her head like a tequila 

shot, and encouraged by this she ripped the Joker's shirt open and moved her mouth over his astonishingly toned chest. He growled as her hips bumped teasingly against his swelling arousal, which was becoming more apparent through the material of his trousers. Rachel grinned as she dodged the grinding of his hips and continued to trace her tongue down his torso, scraping her nails over his skin as she travelled slowly towards his waist. She was in no hurry to relieve the Joker's lust and made this plain by taking her time with tasting his skin, licking and nipping him with her teeth. He groaned with longing and grabbed fistfuls of her hair, pushing her head against his flesh and forcing her to be more violent.

Rachel could hold back her desire no longer. She could feel his member straining for release and imagined giving him what he so clearly wanted. She fumbled with his belt and unzipped his trousers, then took his arousal in her mouth, giving a few tentative, teasing licks, taking her time.

The Joker growled his frustration and wrapped Rachel's hair around his fingers once more, holding her head still as he pushed himself further into her mouth. She felt ecstasy shudder through his body and watched as he put his head back and closed his eyes, his teeth gritted in pleasure and pain as he continued to rape her mouth. Steadily the Joker's grip on her grew slack as he surrendered to his body, and Rachel, knowing he wouldn't last much longer, decided to end his pleasure before he would no longer feel the need to satisfy hers. She drew her mouth away from his erect member and began to travel back up his body, kissing and licking his torso as she went. His body tensed and suddenly he pushed her away, giving her a look meant to kill.

"You little teasing bitch," he snarled. "Don't you attorneys know you're meant to finish the job? I didn't bring you here so I could indulge _your _desire."

Rachel smiled, even though the expression on the Joker's face was murderous. "I thought you liked to play games, Joker, so here we go. I'm playing."

He advanced on her, seething with rage and unfulfilled lust. "Well, I'll teach you not to change my _rules_."

The Joker grabbed Rachel's waist and pulled her towards him, then span her around and forced her up against the metal table so that her back was facing him. Then he pushed her skirt up to her hips, revealing her smooth, bare backside. She heard him lick his lips.

"It's a good job you're soaking wet, Miss Dawes, because I don't have any lubricant on me."

He cackled insanely as he dug his fingers into her hips. Rachel moaned with yearning as he rubbed his straining member over her throbbing loins, coating himself in her juices. It took three thrusts to penetrate her, but eventually the Joker slid himself all the way in with a satisfied grunt, ignoring Rachel's cries of agony as the walls of her rectum parted to encompass his girth. He began to pound into her, flicking the hair out of his face and pulling her hips towards him in order to finally relieve his suffering. Rachel yelled each time he slammed into her but this did not deter him – in fact it seemed to encourage him. He thrust into her with animalistic strength and she had to clutch the metal table in front of her to steady herself, but as time passed her discomfort evaporated and her pleasure intensified. This was something that no one had ever done to her before, and it was _exciting, _like the man doing it. He was unpredictable, dangerous, psychotic – and this turned her on.

Rachel's groans mingled with the Joker's and she bit her lip, willing herself not to come too soon. That would betray her lust and she was still aware that there was a game to win. It was him who surrendered first though, his release rumbling like thunder at the back of his throat, his seed spilling down her legs as he withdrew from her, panting for air.

Rachel turned to face him, disappointed. He hadn't let her come, and her point was aching more acutely with each passing moment, lust rushing through her veins like the deadliest poison. She was on the verge of getting to her knees and begging him to take her, and the strain showed on 

her face. The Joker smirked at Rachel as he smoothed his greasy hair back and gave her a look almost filthy enough in itself to make her come.

"Have a taste of your own medicine," the Joker quipped, flicking his tongue around his lips. "Speaking of medicine, I know _exactly _the remedy to cure your, uh, _ailment._"

She leant back against the metal table, her body shivering deliciously at the baritone rumble in his voice. Her eyes closed and she moaned, imagining him doing all sorts of things to her.

"Now _this _– won't – hurt – a bit," the Joker said.

Rachel opened her eyes. He was holding up his knife and grinning from ear to ear. Before she had time to even scream he flipped it over in his hand so that he held the blade, grabbed one of her thighs with the other hand, and shoved the handle of the knife into her moist entrance. Rachel's mouth opened in a silent cry as he began to work her furiously, his dark eyes burning into hers, and watched as her body began to spasm with ecstasy. He angled the knife, growling with satisfaction as loud cries escaped from her lips. The blade was slicing into the Joker's hand as he worked the handle and he gritted his teeth in pain and bliss as blood spilled down his wrist. The pressure was beginning to build in his loins again as he watched Rachel rock backwards and forwards against his knife handle, and he willed her to come so that he could move in for what he wanted: a _proper _fuck. None of this teasing shit anymore, he thought angrily. The game was over.

A shriek escaped from between her full red lips, signifying satisfaction, and she sighed as the Joker removed the blade. Looking down, Rachel caught sight of his bloodied hand, took the knife from him, and raised the hand to her mouth. The taste of his blood was salty, metallic, _electrifying. _He snatched his hand from her grasp impatiently, the glint in his eye and the strain in his trousers making it clear that he was not in the mood for playing around anymore. Rachel was now more than willing to consent to his rules.

The Joker grabbed her waist and flung her onto the table so that she was lying sprawled across the cold surface, her chest heaving in anticipation. He climbed onto the table and straddled her, then ripped off her skirt so that she was naked from the waist downwards. He pulled open Rachel's blouse then snatched his knife from her and cut away her bra to reveal two ripe, heaving bosoms, which he lowered his lips to and began to bite and kiss. Rachel was far too aroused by now to care about the state of her clothes, and she leant her head back upon the metal surface and threaded her fingers through the Joker's hair, pressing him into her. She was ready when he was – but for some reason something didn't feel right. She needed to be on top.

Rachel seized the front of the Joker's open shirt and rolled him onto his back with startling force. She straddled him now, gasping in expectation, her skin burning from his recent kisses. He looked surprised, then grinned and laid back, awaiting her next actions. She pulled his belt from his trousers and proceeded to tie both of his wrists to the nearest table-leg, securing them well. He grunted at the awkward position, but a smirk spread over his face and the swelling bulge bumping against Rachel's hips told her of his approval. She wasted no time in ripping down his trousers and pants and then, finally, impaling herself on the Joker's erect member. He groaned as she slid herself down to his hilt and her hips began moving rapidly back and forth over his arousal. The Joker grunted in frustration as he realised the belt restricted any efforts he could make to intensify his pleasure. Rachel grinned down at him as he was forced to lay back and let her rape him, devour him, roll waves of ecstasy from her hips across the whole length of his body.

"Fuck, you're so fucking _tight,_" he muttered through gritted teeth as Rachel clenched her thighs together. His mouth opened in a silent scream as she skilfully prolonged his orgasm, refusing to release him until absolutely necessary. He uttered a brutal howl when she finally allowed him to come, crying her own satisfaction as she felt his seed slip down between her thighs. Rachel drew away from him and sat back, gratified to see just how much pleasure she'd given him.

The Joker looked up at her, his chest heaving with exertion, and dragged his tongue across his lips, now devoid of makeup.

"Well, Miss Dawes, I had funnnnn-uh. We really should do this more often."

He watched as Rachel blushed and attempted to make herself decent by wrapping the tattered remains of her blouse around her. She got down from the table and shakily undid the belt, releasing the Joker from his bonds. She would dearly have loved to leave him tied up but she may not have been able to leave the building without his direction. He sat up and rubbed his wrists.

"How kind of you. Although you could have left me here...you know how I enjoy a little bit of torture every once in a while."

He chuckled as he hopped down from the table and re-clothed himself, buttoning his shirt back up and tucking it into his trousers. Rachel did her best to retrieve her garments and dress herself, but it was difficult – she had no underwear and her blouse and skirt were ripped.

"I suppose I ought to return you to your squeeze, Harrrveeey," the Joker drawled, then grinned. "I wonder if he's found your tracking device yet?"


End file.
